


oh you are my star

by theformerone



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Femslash February 2018, Fluff, Murder Wives, it makes sense I promise, the one where tenten has to fight temari so they can get married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 10:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13679454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theformerone/pseuds/theformerone
Summary: Tenten yanks the kunai out of Temari’s hand and presses it to her own throat. Temari’s mouth goes dry at the implication.“Sabaku no Temari,” she says, “end my life or take my hand.”direct sequel to'we'll go there without stopping'





	oh you are my star

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentines day ~
> 
> title lifted from eisley’s ‘golly sandra’ the wlw anthem of my youth

Peacetime is peculiar in that it ensures Temari is as busy as she's ever been and that her paranoia is still jittering at its peak. 

Gaara's the Kazekage. Kankuro's a master puppeteer and is about a year away from gunning for the head of the Puppet Corps. Half of the people she used to know have died, but somehow, she's still living. Still breathing. The people that she loves most in the world are safe and whole. 

Despite the best efforts of several  _incredibly fucked up_ people, the world is still standing. 

As the Kazekage's aid, advisor, and older sister, Temari is more or less the unofficial second Kazekage. Kankuro's work with the Puppet Corps keeps him away from politics for the most part, but Temari is a diplomat, an ambassador, and a damn fine jounin. She cannot escape her fate, born of paperwork and finicky elders (only two of which are still alive after the war).

She doesn't want to escape it either. She doesn't love her village as much as she loves her little brother. And while she is fiercely loyal to Suna, Temari knows that if it came down to Gaara and Kankuro or Sunagakure, she'd pick her brothers every time. 

That kind of attitude had nearly faced an extinction when Temari was a child. Even after the Founders Era, nationalism was seen as the cure to a fractured and bleeding young country. But recognizing that her citizens had precious people, and that those precious people had precious people of their own, had made Suna stronger. 

Temari loved Gaara, and Gaara loved Lee, so if anything happened to Lee, Temari would be there to help him. Kankuro loved his own apprentices in the Puppet Corps, and Temari loved Kankuro, so if his brats were whining over a scraped knee or a busted spool of ninja wire, Temari would toss them her spare and a bandage. 

It went on and on like that, until every living person in Sunagakure was protected by someone who was protected by someone else, and so on. Love was not a weapon as much as it was protection. Their mother's sand in Gaara's gourd had taught the scions of the Kazekage clan that much. 

That love had spread across the villages after the war. There was nothing like a worldwide conflict to put things into perspective for the shinobi world. Now more than ever there were mass immigrations across the shinobi nations for couples young and old that had found love in the trenches. Rock Lee had dual citizenship in both Konoha and Suna, and traveled frequently between the two. 

Temari was no exception. 

Seeing Tenten across the battlefield when the fighting was over had made Temari's stomach hollow and her heart full. She had responsibilities; she had to get to Gaara and regroup the still living Suna shinobi. She had to know who was too injured to walk the journey home, who had died, and so on. 

But Tenten's hair had fallen out of its buns, and she was using her Allied Forces hitai-ate to keep her hair out of her face and out of her eyes. She was cut up and bruised but she was alive, gods above and below, Tenten was  _alive_ and Temari couldn't stop herself from running.

She bowled hard into Tenten, wrapping her in the tightest embrace she could manage. Tenten's arms had been there to welcome her, clasping her just as tightly. Temari wasn't sure how long the two of them had held onto each other. It felt like years and like seconds. It hadn't been enough either way. 

They patted each other down for injuries, Tenten looking particularly unhappy with the way Temari favored her left leg instead of her right. She had started asking Temari about what injury caused her limp when she kissed her. 

It had taken Tenten by surprise, but Temari couldn't make herself wait. She cradled Tenten's head in her hands, her brown hair falling over Temari's dry calloused hands. Tenten's lips were dry and somehow tasted like the desert. Temari licked into her mouth and Tenten wrapped her arms around her waist and squeezed.

They had to part to regroup with their villages, to count and begin to mourn their dead. But Temari carried the kiss with her in the back of her mind.

Later that day, when there was time, Tenten had found her in her tent. She came bearing a brush and with patient hands had run it through Temari's grimy ponytails. There had been no time to wash it during the fighting. There wouldn't be time until Temari returned to Suna, or what was left of it, or at least until the rebuilding was done. 

Tenten brushed her hair, and laughed as Temari balked at its length. It was a little past her shoulder blades now, longer than it had been before the war started. The rasp of the brush against her scalp had made Temari's skin rise. She wrapped a hand around Tenten's wrist to stop her brushing, and used her free hand to bring Tenten's mouth to hers again. 

They were brief and loud as everyone who had found their lover alive after the fighting had stopped, who wanted to be slow and measured but found that they couldn't when they got the chance to touch again. Tenten left a string of gorgeous bruises around Temari's neck, and counted each purple moon as she left it.

Temari scratched Tenten's back and keened as she came, rigid and then loose and pliant in Tenten's arms. After a moment of stillness, she reared up and pushed Tenten down on her back. She spread her thighs apart and ate until Tenten couldn't help but wrap her legs around Temari's shoulders and whine, high and needy in the back of her throat.

Afterwards, they traded places, and Temari brushed out Tenten's still loose hair. The rubber bands that held her four ponytails in place were loose on the ground beside her bedroll, and Temari picked up two to tie back Tenten's buns back into their usual style. She used the remaining two to tie up her own hair and gave Tenten a toothy grin. 

"There," she said, "now we match."

Parting had been necessary but difficult. They had both had villages to rebuild and loved ones to mourn. But it had taken mere weeks for the first messenger hawk to find Temari, pecking at her window with a tidy letter attached to its leg. 

They wrote as frequently as they could between their duties. It was plenty. 

It takes months before they can see each other again, before the world is stable enough to allow frequent travel. The shinobi nations are still nursing their wounds, and it will take time before they are healed. But the worldwide alliance secured after the war ensures that peacetime will stubbornly hold on even if some wily goddess slips through space-time to mess with the world again. 

* * *

 It's a year after the war has ended and Tenten is in Suna to organize an arms deal between the two nations. She's somehow managed to get herself in charge of that kind of thing; Temari is reluctantly impressed and exhausted by it. Lee had come with her as an escort, and also as an excuse to see Gaara and was currently gallivanting in the village, making himself a jungle gym for the children in the orphan's quarter.

Arms deals are usually things that aids oversee and kages sign off on, but Gaara had insisted on being in the room as Tenten went over the inventory of what she had brought with her to Konoha. 

She's watching idly, allowing Gaara to take the helm. He needles Tenten with stoically asked questions about his boyfriend back in Konoha, and Tenten obligingly answers as she encourages Gaara to test the weight of the kunai in the box. 

Temari saunters over and peers down at the crate of weapons her brother and her girlfriend are crowded around. They're fine weapons, as if Tenten would bring them anything less than fantastic. She reaches in herself, running her fingertips over the cool metal of the blades. She picks one up and tests its weight. It has no wrapping around the hilt and its still shiny from a recent oiling. 

Temari runs her finger against the edge of the blade, and smirks when it bites a slim line of blood from her finger. She reaches into her thigh holster for one of her own weapons and measures the balance and weight of both of them in either hand. 

"Where were these made?" she asks, interrupting the conversation between Gaara and Tenten. 

"River Country," Tenten answers. 

Temari hums under her breath and tosses the River Country kunai into the air. She catches it by the hilt, flips it into an overhand and then underhanded grip. When she's satisfied, she places it back into the crate next to the hundreds of similar weapons and looks back up at Tenten. 

"They're good looking," she says, "and they've got a nice weight, you're right about that. How expensive?"

Tenten shrugs. 

"Not very, not for you," she replies. "Naruto wouldn't let me gouge the prices even if I wanted to. When I told him he wasn't the Hokage and couldn't make that call, he got  _very_ huffy."

"I can imagine," Temari snorts. 

She twirls her own kunai, fitting the loop around her middle finger and letting it spin. 

"What does the Rokudaime have to say about it?" she asks. 

Tenten gives her a winning smile. 

"Kakashi-sama is more than happy with the peace time rate we've been offering Suna since before the Fourth War, with a little extra off the top just in case."

It was generous of him; trade was difficult during the rebuilding, and the world economy was still lurching to its feet. 

"That's a good offer," Temari says, peering over at her brother.

She focuses back on Tenten, and stops twirling her kunai. She puts her hands on her hips, and tilts her head to one side. 

"Too good," she continues. "Are you sure there are no strings you aren't telling us about?"

She trusted Tenten. To an extent, she trusted Kakashi. Gaara would have the final say on the matter in private; the idea of upsetting Temari's girlfriend cowed him something fierce. He'd leave it to Temari herself to deliver any bad news if he found the arms deal to be out of Suna's favor. 

Tenten gives her a little grin and says, "How'd you guess?"

Temari snorts. It was part of policy to announce serious romantic attachments to shinobi of other villages before the war. After was no different. It was a bit less looked down upon since so many shinobi were immigrating to be with their partners. Temari had been dreadfully embarrassed when she filled out her paperwork. 

But Kakashi was no fool. He sent Tenten to butter Temari up because he knew they were involved. 

Tenten crosses around the crate of knives to her and lays one hand on Temari's shoulder. Temari glances down at the hand and then back at her brother, who is not looking away, which is strange because public displays of affection have always made him feel awkward. 

She slides her hand down Temari's arm until she gets to where her hand is resting on her hip. Then, Tenten yanks the kunai out of Temari’s hand and presses it to her own throat. Temari has a split second to wonder what in the _fuck_ is going on. Her eyes flicker to Gaara, who is watching with narrowed eyes. He hasn't moved to stop Tenten from cutting her throat. He hasn't moved at all. He's - he's observing. 

Temari’s mouth goes dry at the implication.

“Sabaku no Temari,” Tenten says, “end my life or take my hand.”

She doesn't know what possesses her to say, "Alright." 

* * *

In the old days, during the Warring States and Founders Eras, the betrothal practice in Suna dictated that your lover to demand you kill them if you didn't love them enough to spend the rest of your life with them.

A lot of people had died. Obviously. 

The action had gone out of vogue when Wind Country coalesced into Sunagakure, but betrothal fights survived. It was a way to ensure that the person who wanted to marry you could protect you. If they could kill you in armed combat, then they definitely could keep you safe throughout your lifetime. That safety was important to shinobi, who lived to fight and die. Nobody wanted to come home to someone who couldn't protect them. 

Competency in a fight wasn't just necessary to shinobi, it was downright sexy. And no one knew that better than Suna shinobi, who literally formulated an entire system by which one could accept or deny marriage requests via armed combat.

The only problem with this, is that Tenten has  _no reason_ to know about the betrothal combat custom. 

Temari knows (because Lee told her because she asked for _reasons_ that she'd rather not discuss right now) that Konoha doesn't have any such customs. Getting married there is more about proving you can keep a house and home, can provide for and raise children. 

If Tenten wanted to marry her, she should've brought Temari gifts of homemade food and hand stitched blankets. She should have done maintenance on Temari's fan, should have brushed her hair, and so on. Instead, Tenten had used Temari's own knife to cut her neck just like the old ways dictated. And Temari was flabbergasted. 

Tenten holds Temari's knife to her own throat and smiles at her. 

"I'm ready when you are."

Temari blinks, feeling wildly out of her depth. 

"Okay."

Tenten bounces a little on the balls of her feet, and Temari's stomach clenches at the way the kunai dances up close to Tenten's chin. 

"I'm ready now," Tenten adds. 

"Oh," Temari replies. "I can do now." 

"Okay."

Tenten steps back out of the knife's bite and goes to tidy up the crates full of weapons. Temari feels loose and floaty. She walks over to her brother, who has been watching like a hawk. 

"Oh my god," Temari says, eyes widening with realization. "You're her witness?"

Gaara nods sagely. 

"I'm your brother and the Kazekage," he says simply. "It's convenient."

All betrothal battles had to be witnessed by at least one person. The witness was usually a family member of the person being proposed to. A government official always had to be on standby in case the fight ended poorly, to prevent international incident. Nobody wanted a foreign shinobi to go home beaten or in a box because they failed in their proposal fight. 

"She asked you?" Temari asks.

Gaara barely shrugs one shoulder.

"She asked Kankuro and I if she could ask you," he replies. 

In other nations, the head of the family had to be asked for someone's hand in marriage. They said yes or no depending on how compatible they thought you were with their charge. In Suna, you asked the family if you would be allowed to ask for someone's hand. They were different in that in other nations, if the family said no, you could still circumvent them and ask for someone's hand. There'd be a measure of ridicule or public talk about it, but the marriage could still happen.

In Suna, if the family said no and you went ahead with the fight anyway, you had to face the entire family in combat. Temari's brothers are a master puppeteer and the actual Kazekage. 

"And you said yes?" 

Gaara looks at her like she's lost her mind. Tenten has pointedly left the room. She's waiting just outside probably, giving Temari and Gaara a measure of privacy. 

"Are you not ready for this commitment?" he asks. 

It shuts Temari up in an instant. 

She hadn't thought about it. As a child, she had dreamed of having hundreds of women falling over themselves to fight her for her hand. She had imagined she'd beat every one, and would only be brought down by the most powerful kunoichi in the world. She would have had to have been a kage from a foreign village, or a wandering woman like the one from the ballads. 

She had thought in a hazy way about marrying Tenten. Every once in a while when she was in Suna for her missions, or was accompanying Lee on his, they would lay together tangled in Temari's bedsheets. Tenten would run her fingers over Temari's arms and ask her what time of year she'd like to get married in (winter) and what colors she wanted for the napkins (purple and white) and what kind of flowers were her favorite (bluebells). 

But it had never been direct. And now, Temari supposes it couldn't have been. Custom dictated that Tenten couldn't ask Temari for her hand unless she had asked her family first; asking Temari while they were in bed, sweat cooling on their skin would have been an unfortunate precedent to having to wake up Kankuro and Gaara to fight Temari's girlfriend in the middle of the night. 

So it's both surprising and incredibly natural when Temari breathes and says, "I am ready."

Because there had never been any doubt in her mind about whether or not she and Tenten would end up together. It had only been a matter of when. The rebuilding efforts were still happening, and they would take time.

She had toyed with the idea of showing up unannounced at Tenten's house some months after Konoha was vibrant again, and tidying up her apartment before she got home. Making her dinner. Washing her clothes and oiling her weapons before she returned home. 

Temari would have carefully placed her own things in harmony with Tenten's. She would've placed her toothbrush beside Tenten's, her clothes in Tenten's dressers and her closet, her shoes beside Tenten's at the front door. It would've been disgustingly domestic, and she's sure she would have blushed the whole way through. 

But Tenten had beat her to the punch. Had come to Suna under the guise of a mission, had somehow gotten an audience with both Gaara and Kankuro and had gotten their permission to ask for Temari's hand. Had somehow between these two events, done enough research into Sunagakure marriage and betrothal customs to know exactly how she was supposed to go about proposing to Temari.

"Then let's go," Gaara says, giving her a soft smile. "You have a fight to lose."

* * *

Tenten leads them to the sandy clearing at the center of the Kazekage clan compound, where Kankuro is already waiting. He's there, but so is Lee. They both sit patiently, and Temari manages a weak wave at her younger brother as she, Tenten, and Gaara make their way to the center of the ring. 

The fights were usually held in view of the families of both the betrothal and the proposer, but Tenten was an orphan. Temari wonders if Lee knows exactly what it means, that Tenten has asked him to view this fight. 

Temari cracks her knuckles, suddenly feeling impatient and a little off kilter. Gaara stands between the two of them and reaches out both of his hands. Tenten immediately puts her right wrist in his grasp, and Temari is only a couple of seconds behind her. Gaara holds each of their wrists, and their fingers splay out to meet each other fingertip to fingertip.

"Sabaku no Temari of the Kazekage clan," Gaara says, "Tenten of Konohagakure has challenged you for your hand. Do you accept her challenge?"

Temari swallows hard. 

"I do," she replies. 

"Tenten of Konohagakure," Gaara says, turning his eyes towards Tenten, "you have challenged Sabaku no Temari of the Kazekage clan to a betrothal match. If you should lose, you will lose her hand. Do you understand?"

Tenten nods brusquely. 

"I do."

"If you should win," Gaara says, "Sabaku no Temari still has the right to refuse your hand. Do you understand?"

"I do."

Gaara lets go of their wrists, and Tenten and Temari's fingers still touch. Gaara takes several steps back to a safe distance and raises his hand in the air. 

"Begin!"

Temari snatches her hand back as he speaks, but Tenten's got a hold on her wrist that's too tight to let her go. She yanks Temari into her chest while she turns, then grabs onto her forearm and shoulder to flip her over her shoulder and onto Temari's back. 

Temari follows Tenten's movement, but when she's arching over Tenten's curved back she grabs a kunai from her pouch. She lets herself land on her fan with a grunt, but her knife is aimed upwards at Tenten's throat by the time she's on her back. 

Instinctively, Tenten darts back and Temari lashes sharply outwards. She hesitates for just a second, fully aware that this fight isn't like the old fights to the death. But it is a fight for her independence. And if Tenten cannot cow her, then Temari will not be cowed. 

Tenten rears back just enough for Temari to launch herself onto her feet. She leaps backwards and throws her kunai, which Tenten easily deflects with one of her own. She gets her fan off of her back just in time to use it to deflect a barrage of kunai. She unfolds her fan to the first moon, and calls up her Dust Wind technique. 

The floor of the arena is already sandy and smooth, but getting the sand in Tenten's eyes is a solid combat strategy. Temari is so used to fighting in the sand its easy for her to see during a sand storm (a fact that terrifies Kankuro and worries Gaara, mother hen that he is) and she's definitely got the home front advantage. 

She uses the cover of the wind and sand to think. Tenten was a long range fighter and so was she, so a long drawn out mess of volleying one attack at the other would be her best bet. It had been a long time since Temari had beaten Tenten in the Chuunin Exams, and Temari had seen Tenten in the war and in the exams when they were held in Suna. It would be best to stick with taijutsu probably, to prevent Tenten from using her nature transformation augmented weapons against Temari's sole fūton. 

Her train of thought is interrupted by a piercing gust of wind. Temari unfolds her fan entirely to shield herself from it. 

"You'll have to try a little harder than that," Tenten's voice calls from above her. 

Temari looks up, and Tenten is above her wielding a weapon that is literally made of myth and legend; the Bashōsen. Temari's jaw drops. 

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" 

She tears her fan out of the ground below her to throw a huge gust of wind in the air. It pushes Tenten back, but she lets her body follow the movement. It turns her around, and with an astounding force Tenten shouts, "Fūton!" and lets the two winds cancel each other out. 

"I'm definitely crazy for you!" Tenten shouts. 

The Bashōsen takes an extraordinary amount of chakra out of the user. It's a beautiful fan, banana shaped, red and white and utterly gorgeous. Every tessenjutsu user in Suna drooled at the thought of it when they heard the stories of its uses in battle. But it had an extraordinary cost. Only a handful of techniques would drain the user dry. 

Temari is raising her hand to concede the match to Tenten, ready to just give her hand instead of fighting for it, because there's no point in dying in these matches anymore and she will be  _damned_ if she watches the woman she loves die just to appease some old tradition. 

A shuriken aimed for her fingers stops her. 

Temari snatches her hand back to herself and scowls up at Tenten. 

"I know what I'm ready to do for you," Tenten says as she descends towards the earth. "Now and for the rest of our lives."

Temari throws another gust of wind up at her to keep her destabilized and off the ground. 

"You're ready to die?" Temari calls up, blood staining her fingers. 

"Absolutely."

It makes Temari still. A little shudder runs down her spine. And sue her if she's the type of kunoichi who gets hot at the idea of someone being willing to die for her, not because it's romantic, but because the idea of someone being strong enough to keep her safe in a hopeless situation, to the point of picking who's life matters more is - well. Competency kink is genetic in Suna, and Temari has it to the highest degree. 

Tenten knows this, and she is a  _demon_ for playing on it.

Temari runs her bloody fingers across the body of her fan and forms the summoning hand seals with one hand. She throws another wave of air with her fan, and Kamatari appears with a puff of smoke.

"Kamatari," she barks. "You from above and me below!"

She remembers the first time she pulled this trick, and Kamatari clearly does too. The weasel zooms through the air high above Tenten, and Temari leaps into the air herself, using her fan to float her onto the current of the winds she's created.

"Isn't that your girl?" he bellows from above her.

Temari scowls.

"Now is not the time!"

"She is!"

Tenten gives a cheeky grin at the ferret and throws a volley of shuriken at him. Kamatari deflects them with his scythe.

"Katon!" Tenten shouts, and a gust of red flames erupt from the Bashōsen at Kamatari.

There's no way for wind to deflect fire with wind, so Temari forms the seals for a substitution and replaces herself with her summons. She brings up her fan to protect herself from the fire. As she begins to descend, she slams her fan shut and bears it down hard onto Tenten. Tenten catches her fan between her two palms.  

"Kamatari!" Temari barks. 

The weasel throws out his scythe and its chain reaches around Tenten's waist. He yanks her back, and Tenten's grip on Temari's fan is immediately loosened. Temari can hear her girlfriend grunt an expletive. 

"Shame," the weasel says as Tenten hurtles towards him. "I had hoped you would win."

Kamatari drags Tenten back and spins her in a wide arc with the blade of his scythe. When she reaches a speed that will either concuss or kill her, Temari closes her fan down to two moons and brings down a wave of wind as Kamatari throws her body towards Temari.

The gust of wind sends Tenten hurtling towards the ground. She lands with an impact that makes Temari’s stomach drop. The mass amount of sand that gets thrown up when she lands covers her fall, and Temari finds herself hurtling towards the ground to make sure she hasn’t actually killed the love of her life.

When she touches down where Tenten should be, there is only a fūma shuriken.

A substitution. Fuck.

The Bashōsen is there on the ground and Temari is tempted, so tempted to pick it up. She reaches down and her fingers just barely brush against it. Immediately, she can feel it begin to tug on her chakra. It wants to be used and it calls out at her wind affinity, curious and probing. Fire wants to eat up the air inside of her, and water wants to quell the flames, and earth wants to suck up the water, and lightning wants to dance. It leaves her vaguely overwhelmed. 

She catches movement at the corner of her eye. She hefts the Bashōnen up. Kamatari can't keep a hold on his form with the legendary weapon sucking at her chakra, so he dissipates as soon as she picks it up. 

She calls out, "Fūton!" and the weapon eats half of the chakra she's got left in her system, but it's worth it for the way it takes Temari's affinity and enhances the jutsu as easy as breathing. 

The wind knocks back three shadow clones, and Temari can't help but marvel at the reserves Tenten must have to have used two techniques with this beautiful fan and still have enough for jutsu. 

She can hear the sound of paper rustling, and Temari knows that that means trouble. She knows she can't risk more than two more techniques with the Bashōsen without having to resort solely to taijutsu. She's an adept hand-to-hand fighter, and she knows Tenten is as well, but this isn't a fight Temari wants to get into without any chakra. 

When the sound of Tenten's massive scroll being tossed into the air, Temari realizes that she isn't being given a choice. 

She calls up a second fūton and the hurricane of weapons that comes down on her is buffeted back up into the air. They'll return eventually to Tenten's scroll when she summons them back, so Temari doesn't worry about them scattering across the arena. She can absently hear Kankuro curse, but there's no time to focus on that. 

She scans the area for Tenten and finds her wielding a bo staff, running straight into Temari. She drops the Bashōsen to grab her fan, and she uses it to counter the staff's attacks. She lashes out with her right leg in a kick aimed for Tenten's head, but she deflects it with her staff. Tenten comes down hard with a blow from her staff at Temari's head, but she ducks and sweeps her fan out at Tenten's legs. 

The brown haired kunoichi leaps into the air and brings her staff down a second time, but Temari meets her with her fan. Sparks glint off the metal staff and her metal fan, and Temari can taste Tenten's breath they're so close. 

Tenten rears her staff around in a wide arc that shoves it beneath Temari's fan. Temari snorts at the effort; she's definitely got a good couple of kilos of muscle on Tenten. If this is a battle of strength, there's no way Tenten could beat her. 

Then Tenten jams her foot into Temari's instep. The sudden shock of the pain makes her slide her foot from beneath Tenten's, drawing herself back until she can open her fan again. Tenten doesn't give her the chance. She jams her bo into the guard of the fan, preventing Temari from opening it further or from shutting it. 

Temari narrows her eyes, but Tenten gives her a satisfied smile and gives a good hard jerk of her staff that wrenches the fan out of Temari's hands. She rears up her fists close to her face, and steps back, ready for a hand to hand fight. 

And then she realizes the feeling of a chakra signature brushing up too tightly against hers. It's the gentlest, almost barely there press, but Temari can feel the foreign chakra signature inside of her body. 

She pulses her chakra hard and the genjutsu is broken. 

It must have happened when she hit the ground. The Bashōsen was a trick, but definitely the real one. She had used it to knock down half of Temari's chakra, to force her into a close quarters fight. Temari wants to spit, she's so angry that she fell for it. But with chakra depletion comes the difficulty at sensing it; the genjutsu had been well thought out, and it makes Temari's stomach flutter to know that Tenten came in with a plan of attack that manipulated Temari to such an extent. 

There isn't very much time to think about it. Tenten barrels down into her too fast for Temari to counter. She's got a knife at Temari's throat as she takes her to the ground, and her knees are on Temari's forearms, pinning her. Temari struggles, but the knife is too close to her throat. Close enough to draw blood. Close enough to kill.

"Sabaku no Temari," Tenten says.

And her eyes look like huge bowls of wet earth, just after the rains. Monsoon season is celebrated with festivals in Suna, because it is a blessing every time it comes. Tenten's eyes are the color of holy mud smeared across the faces of children and mothers and fathers, all relaxing because they know they will survive another year in the desert. 

"With this knife I prove that I can take your life, and that I can protect it."

Temari is breathing hard, panting. Her throat bobs up and just barely touches the sharp end of Tenten's kunai. She can't get out of this. She could substitute herself with her fan, but she hasn't practiced doing substitutions one handed. She could splice herself if she wasn't careful. She can't get away from Tenten. 

And she doesn't want to. 

"I promise you all my days," Tenten says. "My rainy seasons and my arid droughts. I promise you my blood and my bones and my children, if you will have them."

It clicks then, that these are the words Tenten has to speak. That she's supposed to say at this point, now that she's won. The old custom; faintly, Temari can remember her mother recounting the way that her father had said them to her. She had said Rasa had stuttered over them, despite having a knife at Karura's throat. Her mother had knocked the knife out of the way, had rolled Rasa onto his back like children brawling in the schoolyard until she had her knife at Rasa's throat. 

Temari remembers her mother's words as she says them aloud. 

She telegraphs her movements hugely, and Tenten's eyes go wide as Temari wraps her hands around Tenten's arms and carefully moves them until Tenten is on her back and the knife is still pressed to Temari's throat. 

"With this knife, I prove that I trust you to protect my life," she says. 

There are tears pooling at the corners of Tenten's eyes. 

"I promise you all my nights. My harvests and my famines. I give to you my blood and my bones and my children, because you will keep them safe."

Temari presses just a centimeter forward. Her instincts are screaming at her to pull back, but she lets the knife draw her blood. 

"Tenten of Konohagakure," she says. "I accepted your challenge. I will not end your life, because now mine is in your hands. I will be your wife."

Lee bellows about youth as Tenten throws the knife away, rears up and kisses Temari full on the mouth. Their teeth clack against each other, and Temari's pretty sure she can taste sand and blood, but when Tenten nips at her bottom lip, everything goes away. 

In Tenten's kiss, Temari can taste forever, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> the whole concept of deadly betrothal techniques is inspired very heavily by ShanaStoryteller's Fullmetal Alchemist Ishvalan!AU which is ….. so fucking good it's painful like honestly WOWZA
> 
> here's a link bc oh man you all deserve to read it too https://archiveofourown.org/series/320582
> 
> thank you for reading xx


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